The Scientist
by TheDarkestShinobi
Summary: Part of my new One Song Series set to Coldplay's the Scientist. "I'm not going to watch you die." Not again. JohnLock if you squint. Rated T for mention of Drugs


**TheDarkestShinobi: **I'm starting a little One Song Series to get my writing juices flowing. These are not songfics, but instead I'll take a song and play it over and over again (20-30 min) and write a quick little thing for it. These are not edited so beware any mistakes. I may come back to fix it, I may not, but if something is painful to read let me know and I'll do my best! This is the first one, "The Scientist" so let me know what you think and feel free to send me a song!

**Start**

"John-" Sherlock's face dropped into annoyance as John turned away from him.

"No, Sherlock." He ran his hand over his face. "I'm tired of being stupid," he shook his head "Forget it, everyone's stupid right, everyone except you." He closed the door on the way out and Sherlock sat on the sofa.

John couldn't know that he was one of them, but he was so much more. Sherlock had stopped including him in the _other_ category years ago, and it was only a slip of the tongue that had him using the world to describe the doctor.

John often left when he was mad, but he never stayed out this long. Sherlock looked to the floor where the progress on the serial killer stared at him. He had been engrossed in the case for days; it was what sparked the argument. He reached under to sofa to pull out the case and opened the case to look at his needles.

He said it wouldn't be easy to live with him, but John had lasted longer than anyone else. John had been better, and Sherlock didn't want to let him go. He couldn't.

He wanted to get back to the part where John laughed at his faults and called him brilliant, or an idiot. Back when they chased a cab and pink was the answer, when Moriarty was just a shadow and a scream. Sherlock closed his eyes.

John opened the door and Sherlock's eyes opened up to take him in. He wasn't drunk; his body was way too stiff for that. He had gone for a run then, based on the red of his cheeks.

"I never said it would be easy. Please don't go."

"You didn't say it would be so hard."

John's body kept no secrets from a mind like Sherlock's. He could see the tension and anger; he noticed the fear and worry. John turned to face him and Sherlock could feel the air grow thick with tension. It wasn't supposed to be like this, ever.

"I'm not going to watch you kill yourself." _Not_ _again. _He finally said and Sherlock looked away.

"I can't stop."

The drugs had come back after the fall, he needed the stimulant to track Moriarty, and he stopped eating for as long as he could. His body was transport and transport only. Sherlock read the hope in John's eyes, he wanted to be enough for Sherlock, he wanted to bring him back but Sherlock willingly jumped, he willingly fell into the needle.

Maybe he should've stayed dead instead of haunting John.

John left for real that time and Sherlock didn't even get up to say goodbye. He was alone again, like so many times before. The cases weren't enough, the drugs weren't enough.

"Go get him." Molly had said to him with an arm on his bicep. He blinked away the haziness in his eyes as he looked in the microscope trying to identify the string inside its view.

"He left me." Sherlock pushed him away. Molly sighed and left him to pull the evidence together. It didn't take long until he wanted more. Nothing was enough.

"You're crying." He suddenly said to her and she nodded, her lips parted into a sad smile and she closed her eyes shaking her head.

"He believed in you. He'll help you if you ask." Sherlock looked down. "Go back to him."

He would, he decided as he saw his empty case.

"Why are you here?" He tried to be annoyed, but his adoration still shined in his eyes and Sherlock was glad for that. He could already feel the sweat on his neck and the tremors in his hand. When was the last time he ate?

"I came to tell you I was sorry."

"Apology accepted." But it wasn't, not really.

"You're not stupid, you're special." He started with his eyes closed, but opened them to stare at the shorter man. "I need you." John let out a sot smile and Sherlock knew he was forgiven but he didn't want to stop. "You help my brain make jumps it wouldn't have, you keep me healthy and," he paused, mouth open before deciding to just say it. Caring was weakness and sentiment was useless, but if it was there then he may as well say it. "You make me happy."

"Sherlock," John glanced at his arms and knew the drugs would be an issue.

"I can't quit by myself, I've tried." He looked up and away taking a deep shuddering breath. "I need you to tell me how."

John reached out an arm and rested it on Sherlock's shoulder before nodding.

"Okay. Now let's go back home."

**END**

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